


Welcome, You Mad B*st*rd!

by God1643



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cauterization, F/M, Graphic Violence, High-Proof Whiskey, Highly Expansive Scarring, Medicinal Herbs, Mental Healing, Tattoos, Tribal Healing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 20:22:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18105791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/God1643/pseuds/God1643
Summary: Some people say he's psychotic. Well, if violently killing any and all demons in your surrounding areas but leaving the humans not only unharmed but healed by your assistance, then he wants to be psychotic, thank you very much!Or: The prisoner Cassandra and Leliana bit off is far more than they can chew.How about you come and watch the chaos?It's gonna be a hell of a ride.





	Welcome, You Mad B*st*rd!

A room with no windows and cobbled grey stone walls, lit only by four braziers in the corners and a small iron chandelier hanging from the low ceiling.

In each corner, beside a brazier, stood an armoured figure. Grey metal plate armour, with a cuirass emblazoned with a winged black sword. In the center of these figures, kneeling on the ground, was a figure clothed in ratty and torn green wool trousers and a thick black cotton shirt.

His arms, rippling with muscle underneath his tanned skin, were bound at the wrist by thick iron manacles. Every few minutes, a thunderous, echoing crackling sound emanated from his left hand.

A sickly, poisonous green light would circle his left palm in a sphere of arcing electricity each time the sound came, startling the armoured figures standing watch over him.

With a crashing sound, the door swung open wide and clanged against the stone walls. The bound man, for he was a man; awoke from a dozing state with a small start.

Casting his eyes around, his unfocused jade pools settled upon the illuminated doorway. A slender figure entered into his vision, clad in black plate armour.

Assessing the figure, he could see small yet prominent breasts, and a set of flared hips that declared this figure was female. She bore an angular face, with a scar on her left cheek and piercing black eyes.

“Madam Pentaghast.” The bound figure said, in a deep, rumbling basso. “I would bow, but I am in an interesting position for the proper pleasantries.”

“How do you know of me?” Cassandra asked hesitantly, her hand resting warily on the pommel of her sword. The figure smirked.

“I am Alexander, of House Smith. I, and my elder brother were drilled on Orlesian Politics since we could hold our spoons. We knew, even then when we had never met you, that the Right Hand of the Divine was one not to trifle with idly.” The figure; now identified as Alex, said.

“Very well, Alex. What do you remember of your ordeal?” Cassandra acquiesced. Alex frowned, in deep consideration for a considerable time before he spoke.

“I remember being awoke by a very loud sound. I stood up and surveyed my surroundings, but I could not see anything through a thick red fog.” Alex began. Cassandra listened patiently.

“I heard a woman shouting, and looked to the sound’s source. A bright, golden figure was beckoning me forward. I went to her, clambering in a daze up very steep steps. She encouraged me forward with far more urgency, and I could not help but speed up my pace.” Alex continued, the words falling from his lips evenly.

“What happened next?” Cassandra asked.

“When I reached the top of the staircase, she stood there and beckoned me towards an archway. As I approached, the archway illuminated in a blue nimbus of light, and she shoved me through. Then I fell unconscious, and woke up bound.” Alex said.

“And that is all you remember?” Cassandra pressed.

“Well, I remember a lot of my life before that, if you must know, but that is all that applies here.” Alex replied with a small huff, his sarcasm returning as his stress evaporated. There was a minute lull in the conversation before Alex spoke again.

“What exactly happened while I was out?” Alex queried. Cassandra gave a weary sigh, before leaning heavily against the stone wall by the door.

“It will be easier to show you.” Cassandra said, after a beat. Alex gave an uncertain nod, although he held out his bindings to be unlocked.

Cassandra, with a clinking of her armour, leaned down and produced a small key from a pouch at her hip. She slid the key into the port and the shackles fell away to the floor with a thud.

“Thank you very much, Lady Pentaghast.” Alex said with a small bow, even as he stood and creaked the discs in his spine.

“You are not off of suspicion yet.” Cassandra clarified. Alex cracked a small smile, before it faded away suddenly from his face. Patting himself down, his brow drew together in an angry frown.

“I suppose that is why you took my armour?” Alex questioned. Cassandra could practically feel a draft of cold breeze from his mouth as he spoke those words.

“Your armour was placed in a depository while you were being treated. It has been kept safe while you slept. Your weapon was also kept in the same lock-up. The blade will be returned to you when we leave the threshold of this building.” Cassandra replied, her voice holding a degree of understanding; as though she knew the feeling of being disarmed without your gear.

“Thank you, Lady Pentaghast.” Alex replied. His entire body seemed to lose the tension held within it, along with a great exhalation of air from his lungs. Cassandra took this time to notice him, and his physique.

While his overall frame was not extremely muscled, his arms were thick and coiled with veins. Various scars wound their way around his exposed arms, some precise and thin while many were wide and jagged.

A large patch of an old burn rested on his left forearm, the skin holding the dull sheen large scars often held from the way they healed in on themselves.

A long scar traveled down the right side of his forehead at an angle, breaking at his brow and restarting on his left cheek. It then followed down further to disappear into the neck of his shirt.

‘ _This man has clearly seen battle._ ’ Cassandra thought idly, even as she gestured him forward and led him from the cell where he had been under guard for the last three days.

Alex’s wary gaze scanned over the Chantry’s inner walls, cataloguing every corner and potential place to use for cover later. Tracing the movements of those around him, their wary stares or even outright glares.

“Why are they glaring at me?” Alex questioned as he followed Cassandra through the Chantry, keeping pace with the shorter seeker quite easily.

“Some of them blame you for the Breach.” Cassandra replied succinctly.

“Tearing a hole in the sky?” Alex asked, disbelief bursting from his mouth. Cassandra gave a resolute nod.

“What colossal fucking idiot came up with that genius idea?” Alex questioned incredulously.

“Chancellor Roderick.” Cassandra bit out, her anger cutting off any humour she may have garnered from Roderick’s unofficial new title.

The two walked up the stairs in a silence, neither uncomfortable nor peaceful; simply quiet.

“It sounds as though you have conflicted with him in the past.” Alex observed as they left the cellar of the Chantry. Cassandra turned her head to observe him, then sighed, but did not break stride.

“I have.” She acquiesced. Alex cocked an eyebrow, beckoning her to continue without a word.

“He disliked my blunt speech, and he believed one who so openly detests the Orlesian Great Game could not work well as the Right Hand.” Cassandra extrapolated.

“The Right Hand’s entire purpose is to be forceful. To promote the Divine’s interests through power, while the Left Hand plays the game.” Alex said, confused.

“He does not share your opinion. He believes both hands should play.” Cassandra said.

“Well, I suppose he truly is a Colossal Fucking Idiot.” Alex said. Cassandra gave a snort of laughter. The two stopped at the large Chantry doors, and Cassandra turned to Alex.

“We will be turning right when we leave, and gathering your armaments from the Requisition Tent. I will then be taking you to our primary outpost, and we will be attempting to close whatever rifts we can on the way.” Cassandra said. Alex nodded his understanding.

“I was a soldier for a time, Ma’am, on a special long term field assignment under Countessa Valerie in Northern Orlais. I can follow orders.”

“What was your special assignment?” Cassandre queried before she could stop herself.

“The Countessa pointed at alive things, I killed things until they were very dead.” Alex replied, without a trace of irony. Cassandra snorted.

“I think Valerie probably liked you.” Cassandra murmured to herself, pushing open the Chantry door, the blast of cold air embedding a grin onto Alex’s scarred face.

Cassandra did not break stride, simply walked to the tent and spoke a few hushed words to the bundled woman in front of the canvas dwelling.

The shorter woman nodded, casting a glance to the silent man who stood slack-jawed while staring at the Breach. Two assistants to Threnn set a heavy sack at her feet. Cassandra gave an incline of her head in thanks, taking the bundle of armour with a grunt.

“Come and get your armour before my arms collapse!” Cassandra called with angry strain in her voice. She watched as Alex shook the daze from his head before she caught his eye.

There was humour in his jade pools, even as he strode to her and took the bundle with no discernable effort. Cassandra huffed and shook out her arms, glaring slightly at Alex.

Alex, even as he slid the thick black wool jacket on, flashed her a cheeky grin. She huffed louder with a sound of disgust, and watched with a muted admiration as he dressed himself efficiently in his all-black armour.

A hauberk of very small iron chain-links slid over his head, before the bottom was clipped onto the loops at the top of a thick pair of pants. A pair of chain trousers made of ovate rings slid over the thick pants, before a set of sharply angled plate greaves clad his shins and thighs.

A cuirass of thick steel plate covered the link-mail hauberk, buckled at the side with leather straps. Pauldrons locked onto the chest-piece before rerebraces were attached underneath.

He slid on thick leather oilskin gloves with sheepskin on the inside, and slid plate vambraces over his arms. Cassandra upturned her lip slightly in an impressed expression, only for her jaw to drop as he removed the helmet.

A sharp curve down the backside of the skull, which connected with a piece of red woolen cloth with links over top of that to protect the back of his neck. A facemask of a snarling wolf, with an open piece over the mouth.

Two large fangs descended from the plate covering Alex’s cupid’s bow, making it look as though he was baring his incisors at any challengers.

What truly stole the show, however; was his weapon.

A long shaft of ironbark wood made the handle, with notches carved into the long expanse of ex-branch for his fingers and two long black lanjets on the side; which connected the axehead to the end.

Alex planted the six-foot haft into the ground, and the double bearded ax blade glinted in the sunlight.

“Ready to go?” Alex asked with a small smirk, knowing firsthand the effect his armour had on most.

“I am. Are you?” Cassandra replied stoically. She could not help but notice that the weight did not seem to hinder his movement at all, even though it covered him so efficiently the only thing not covered in plate was the back of his neck and the back of his kneecaps.

And even those had thick boiled leather and yet more chainmail over them.

“Lead the way.” Alex encouraged, gesturing with his left hand. Cassandra huffed and marched off, Alex striding behind her at a pace that was leisurely despite Cassandra’s quick steps.

His ax beat a cadence into the ground, similar to a walking stick; yet somehow she knew that it would be but a few seconds before Alex could have himself coiled and ready to kill with a sweeping cleave.

It was then that she heard him grunt in pain and drop to the ground. Cassandra whirled around and her eyes widened in surprise. Alex knelt on the ground with his left hand clutched to his chest, the bright light showing through even his thick gloves.

His right hand held tight to the ax, supporting himself as it planted in the ground.

“What is wrong?” Cassandra queried.

“It feels like my hand is on fire; again. Worse when that damn apostate sent an immolation curse my way.” Alex bit out. Cassandra made to investigate it; yet she knew what was causing the pain.

“It has been getting steadily worse. We believe only closing the breach will cease any additional exacerbation of your pain.” Cassandra said in response.

“Well, fuck it. Let’s go.” Alex replied, struggling to his feet. Cassandra could not help but widen her eyes slightly; knowing that pain must be horrible after three days of growing in intensity.

Alex followed her through the main gates at a subdued pace, but he was by no means slowing Cassandra down. In fact; with him wearing more than twice the amount of armour she did, she respected his strength.

However; it was not until they came into combat for the first time that she became slightly unnerved by him. The bridge had just collapsed out from under them; and yet he had shaken the daze from his head and stood again.

The Shades; which had frozen most of the soldiers under her command upon first sight, simply seemed to perk him up like a hound spotting a rabbit.

And then; he had bellowed at the top of his lungs a battlecry she had never heard before and hadn’t even heard anything its like.

She was not able able to make out the words; but it was a raucous and obnoxious sound that both fanned the flame of combat inside her and made her more confused than she had ever been.

His ax caught the sunlight on the horizontal downstroke, before sending foul, green blood flying through the air to spatter upon the ice. His battlecry came again as the bisected demon collapsed to the ground and faded into black smoke; before he turned to see Cassandra dealing with her demon with her blade in its gut.

“Well done!” He cheered, his obnoxious grin peeking through from between the wolf fangs of his helmet’s faceplate. She found herself giving a tiny grin in response, his infectious smile much like Anthony’s.

With that thought; she sobered slightly. Alex spoke again.

“Let’s go!” He urged, before jogging off with his ax’s haft clutched in both hands and a scream of war from his lungs. Cassandra gave a single, exasperated chuckle before following him up the slick hill.

As the duo fought their way up the mountain; Cassandra could not help but feel progressively more strongly that she knew this man from somewhere. Perhaps it was a mannerism he showed, maybe it was something in the way he fought; but she knew this man.

That she was sure of.

Alex caught her off guard again as they reached the forward party; although in a way she did not expect.

Alex, true to the beginning of the engagements before now; charged in with a loud scream of war. Cassandra followed him in, and watched his back as he shoved a shade’s clawed arm out of its previous path toward a dwarf.

Varric gave a grin in thanks, but it went unnoticed as Alex fell into a blind battle rage, cleaving demons apart and killing summoned wraiths with abandon.

The Soldiers in the forward party were given a reprieve as they found themselves suddenly behind a tank of heavy armour and swinging blades.

They rested themselves as they awaited the newest wave of demons. A new wave which never arrived.

Solas, the small elf mage they had been protecting as he threw offensive ice spells over their head, had gripped the massive man’s hand and shoved it against the force field around the rift.

With a thunderous crackling sound a bright flash of viridian light, the rift blinked out of existence.

Alex could not describe the feeling closing a rift gave him; as though two forces were warring inside him. One force told him it was proper to do this; that they did not belong on the other side of the Veil, but another told him it was evil and the world must be integrated to survive.

It was a deep uneasiness combined with a feeling of rightness that conflicted within Alex. It was almost as though he were being married, except that he and his arch-nemesis were being mind-controlled into loving each other.

Felt right on the surface, yet so deeply wrong that he wanted to stop it immediately.

And yet, a Warrior’s body is a highly disciplined thing. He neither followed the uneasiness and withdrew, nor did he follow the sense of right and jump into the Rift.

And then, the Rift was gone. It simply blinked from existence with a shockwave of air that sent the slack of his chainmail hauberk whipping in the sudden gust of air.

Alex felt, in the sudden absence of resistance, his hand fall downward now that the Elvhen mage was not so tightly gripping him any longer. Alex turned to look, and gave the elf a small smile.

“Quick thinking.” Alex complimented.

“It was not me that gave you the Mark. I only felt the twin energies of the Breach and your Mark. It was a simple addition.” Solas replied, in a strange monotone that suggested he knew far more than he was saying.

“What he means, is that he kept that mark from killing you while you slept.” A dry voice said, cutting their conversation in twain as an intimidating dwarf with a large crossbow and rakish hair stepped towards them.

Alex turned to look at the humble elf with no small amount of surprise.

“Aneth ara, Hahren, and I offer my gratitude.” Alex said, bowing his head slightly. Solas’ eyes widened in mild shock, yet he nodded his acceptance anyway. Alex turned his attention back to the dwarf, who introduced himself.

“Varric Tethras, rogue, author, and occasionally, unwelcome tag-along.” Varric said, giving a small smirk in the direction of Cassandra. Something in his eyes suggested a past between the two, that involved no small amount of hostility that was simply buried under sarcasm.

Cassandra huffed in disgust at his introduction, and Alex jumped in to mitigate the tension.

“Nice crossbow.” He complimented. Varric puffed up slightly and smirked, patting the handle of the crossbow affectionately.

“Yeah, Bianca and I have been through a lot together.” Varric said fondly.

“Something tells me you are not speaking only of the weapon.” Alex remarked with a small smirk.

“You may or may not be correct. Bianca is the only story I will never tell.” Varric said with a rueful smile, even as the party began making their way down the hill.

Observing three shades and four wraiths, Varric instantly became edgy as Solas prepared his staff. Cassandra locked her blade over her shield in a battle-ready position, and spoke.

“How are we going to handle this?” She questioned warily.

“I would suggest Solas and I hanging back to shoot the wraiths, while you two get in close and work on the shades. When the wraiths are done-” Varric began, only to be interrupted.

“AAAAAAAHHHH!” Alex roared, a guttural scream of primal rage as he charged into the startled shades, his axe cleaving the head from the first’s shoulders and setting to work on the nearest wraith.

By the time that Varric had brought Bianca to bear, Solas had focused his magic, and Cassandra had reached the small skirmish, Alex had killed six and was working on the final wraith.

A bolt from Bianca sunk into the ghostly form just as Alex’s ax blade cleaved it in twain from the shoulder to the hip. Alex turned to the three with a manic grin on his face, even as his helmet’s faceplate remained angry and spattered with thick green ectoplasm.

“Let’s go!” He urged cheerfully, before charging up the opposite slope with his ax brought to bare. Varric and the other two followed at a jog to keep up.

“Is he always like this?” Varric questioned incredulously.

“Only when killing demons is involved.” Cassandra resolved after a moment of thought. Her heavy armour clinked and rung against itself with a noticeable volume, as her strides lengthened to keep up.

“Where did he say he trained?” Solas questioned, his lungs inhaling large puffs of wintry air.

“He didn’t tell me. I suspect he learned from either a Templar or someone who hunts freelance. He did mention a brother at some point, and that his father knew of Orlesian Politics. He also knew me immediately upon seeing me.” Cassandra replied, as the three caught up to another nearly-handled skirmish with two greater shades and three wraiths.

Bianca made quick work of a wraith preparing an offensive spell, and Solas’ arcing frost spells immobilised a shambling shade with quick, fluent motions.

“Thanks.” Alex said with an incline of his head, swinging the flat of his ax lazily in his right hand to shatter the frozen shade with a sound not unlike broken glass.

“Anytime.” Solas replied in his even monotone, though his cheeks were flushed red from the cold and effort. Alex left this battleground at a slightly more sedate pace, moving with a deliberate stride that stayed even with Cassandra’s.

“How far are we to the forward camp?” Alex questioned.

“Not far. A minute’s walk, at our pace.” Solas replied. Alex gave a nod of gratitude, choking up on the haft of his ax and planting it with each step.

“What’s the plan after this?” Alex asked as they walked, his armour clinking.

“I suspect we close the Breach. Or at least, attempt to.” Cassandra replied. Alex stopped suddenly in shock, his foot midstep and having to catch himself on a nearby rock.

“You expect the power of one man’s connection to the Fade to heal a tear in the Veil? _One_ man’s?” Alex questioned incredulously.

“I hadn’t thought about that.” Cassandra admitted.

“I don’t know much about magical theory, but even _I_ suspect the Veil needs significant attention over many years if it is to close permanently.” Alex continued, walking slowly up the hill.

“When did you become suddenly serious?” Varric asked, a huff in his voice from the hill’s slope.

“When we began discussing what could very well be the end of the world.” Alex snarked in response, his mind running through potential containment strategies.

“Is Haven the only way to leave the Temple of Sacred Ashes?” Alex questioned after a moment of silence.

“Yes. There are no other ways off the mountain.” Cassandra affirmed.

“Then we need to begin building a perimeter. Pull every soldier back and prepare to defend the furthest outpost we have. Over time, we should gradually build outposts forward.” Alex asserted.

“But that could take weeks!” Cassandra protested.

“If we rush this, I could be killed by a lucky shot and you lose your chance!” Alex replied, steel in his voice.

A thunderous crackling interrupted their heated conversation, and the group of four shot to attention.

“It’s opening again!” The soldier beyond them shouted with an exasperate crack in his voice, and the rift spat out a shade directly at him. Alex launched a knife from his belt, embedding it into the shade’s head before it could harm the young man.

Alex launched himself forward and bisected a wraith at the third rib. Spinning and holding the long haft of his axe near the base, Alex let the centrifugal force carry the bearded blade into a demon’s chest.

Bianca thudded out three bolts into a forming wraith, and Solas froze a shade that Cassandra’s shield was grappling with. Cassandra shoved through the frozen demon with her shield while slashing her sword toward a wraith charging a spell toward Varric.

Though they had been a party of four for only half of an hour, they fought together as though they had been fighting simultaneously all their lives.

As Solas spun the head of his staff into a shade’s skull and sent the demon into the ground, Alex thrust out his hand and closed the rift with a push of his internal connection to the Fade.

Panting with effort, Cassandra braced her hands on her knees in a need to rest. After a moment, a large and calloused hand was laid upon her shoulder. Looking backward, Alex smiled down at her with a reassuring warmth she had not seen since her father began her instruction in fighting.

He helped her through the gate and assisted her to sit heavily whilst bearing the weight of her heavy plate armour. It was traditionally difficult, though it was not impossible. Cassandra had done it for many years now, even flat-out refusing the opportunity to learn on lighter armour when she first began.

But, somehow, it was far more draining to skirmish in this new style. Perhaps it was simply Alex’s excitable method of combat that had her so winded and unprepared for this new level of required conditioning, but she could not deny that it was an effective and fascinating way to fight.

“Are you alright?” He rumbled in his smooth basso, concern in his voice. She saw the brightness in his jade eyes slightly dimmed, but no less eager to help. Cassandra grunted slightly as she moved, the adrenaline leaving her system forcing her to realise the issue.

She placed a palm against her side and felt a cooling liquid. She withdrew her hand to see blood on her glove. Alex noticed, as she expected. What she did not expect was for him to let his axe fall to the ground with a clatter and scoop her from her seat.

He lay her down on an empty cot and removed his helmet, ripping off his gauntlets soon after and throwing them all to the side. He hurried over to a nearby supply crate and pulled two bottles from it, a standard healing potion and infusion of elfroot.

Cassandra leaned up on her cot, and pressed a palm onto his chest to stop him from worrying. He fixed her with a glance that had her silenced and laying back down, almost as if by magic.

He started deftly undoing the buckles to her cuirass and removed the chestplate, peeling up her linkmail and shirt in one fluent movement to reveal her bleeding side. A large gash, with shrapnel around the side ran from the top of her pelvis to just below her pancreas.

“Damn it.” He cursed under his breath, and began shaking the healing potion until it separated into two different layers. One red, one orange. He poured off the top layer and added the infusion of elfroot before capping the bottle and mixing thoroughly.

He took the remainder of the elfroot and splashed it onto her wound. Cassandra hissed as the concoction cleaned her wound. Alex held the mysterious red concoction that had been mixed with elfroot and held it up to her lips.

“This is going to taste absolutely horrible.” He warned, keeping a waterskin in his off hand to help her wash it down. Cassandra downed the potion in one swallow and nearly gagged, ripping the offered water from his palm and taking deep gulps.

Alex propped her up with his arm and leaned her against the wall of the bridge. He grabbed a small brush and poured the set-aside orange contents over it, before smearing the thick paste over her wound.

He chanted a few words under his breath and the shrapnel wormed its way out from her wound, peeking through the skin and falling down her abdomen.

Alex soon paused the chant and started another, the wound sealing itself rapidly.

“I’m not even going to ask how you did that.” Cassandra spoke breathlessly. Alex cracked a small smile, and she found herself reciprocating tiredly.

“You have lost a lot of blood. You will need a day at least before you can fight again. And that is not up for debate.” Alex said quickly.

“Since when were you in charge?” She questioned without any real heat. Alex gave a bellowing laugh, a rich guffawing sound that made Cassandra chuckle.

“Since I became your healer.” He remarked drily. Cassandra cracked a smile and shuffled against the cot. Alex began to undo her greaves and set them aside atop her cuirass, and draped a thick cotton blanket over her. Sliding the wooden cot frame into a large tent to keep her insulated from the wind, he bid her a goodbye before leaving.

Chancellor Roderick looked up from his map to see the armoured figure before him, and instantly became on his guard. Standing up straight and puffing out his chest, he disregarded the presence of Leliana beside him and addressed the man.

“What do you want, Mercenary?” Roderick asked haughtily, his brow furrowed.

“ _I want_ you to put your cleric training to use and help these people, but your head is so far up your ass you probably wouldn’t hear my request.” Alex bit out with a snarl.

“How dare you?” Roderick hissed. Leliana snickered into her hand behind him, but she went ignored by the two others whilst they engaged into their conversation.

“Had you accepted that the military leaders here know how to deal with troop placements and you don’t, these soldiers wouldn’t have lost so many of their friends.” Alex snarled, coming around the table and grabbing the smaller man by the back of his neck.

Dragging the stumbling and protesting man toward the injured, he sent him flying with a single-armed shove to slide backward on his butt.

“Get to work healing, you worthless Cleric.” Alex snarled, returning to the map. Leliana smirked at him and his lips precariously teetered between angry at Roderick and smiling at seeing justice done.

“Where are our main deployments?” Alex asked Leliana, looking down at the map before him.

“We have scouts at the three main watchtowers, observing the rifts and launching smoke signals with various messages.” Leliana began in her rich Orlesian accent, pointing to three points on the map where small raven feathers sat on top of inch-tall stones.

“The bulk of our forces are held in an arching shieldwall here, repelling the demons as our volunteer builders restore the temple wall behind them. The progress is good, helped along by our established shifts and the wave-based attacks of the enemies.” Leliana said, pointing to the temple where various pieces piled together.

A small staff, a small kite shield with the Templar emblem, three round shields and four carpenters’ hammers.

“As soon as the wall nears completion, mount archers here and here…” Alex began, pointing to the image of two towers beside what was once the gate to the Temple.

“And pull all of the foot soldiers back. Set up tents behind the wall and rotate out archers, with four pairs of mages on six hour shifts backing them up for ranged defense.” Alex commanded. Leliana nodded her agreement, and looked him in the eye as he turned to look at her.

“Is there a way to call a full retreat of only your scouts?” Alex asked, a strange idea budging its way roughly to the forefront of his mind. Leliana nodded, though her red eyebrows drew together in confusion.

“I want them back here, to search for herbs. Put out four two man teams here, here, here and here. Have whoever is left search for and gather elfroot, embrium and kingsfoil if you can find it.” Alex said, pointing to a large stone outcropping, a small wooden bridge, a large cliff overlooking a lake and top of a large hill.

Leliana nodded her understanding and marched away, while Alex left in the opposite direction to continue healing the soldiers who happened to be in need.

 

The bulk of the soldiers slowly drew away from the main Temple, retreating to the camp behind the bridge and shoring up defenses around their nearest outpost in the valley beyond.

Commander Cullen, a tall man wearing a set of templar armour and an impressive fur mantle, with styled blonde hair and a solemn demeanour, agreed quite soundly with Alex’s assessments of the Battlefield.

Chancellor Roderick, after another physical ‘reminder’ of Alex’s dislike for clerics who did not heal people, set to tending to the soldiers at an increased pace from before.

It wasn’t until the forward scouts returned that Alex had to leave the bridge.

A scout, marked by his slender frame, black leather light armour and purple mantle bolted into the camp and slammed open the gates.

“Help! The forward builders got ambushed on the way back! They sent me ahead!” He shouted. Alex shot out from his tent, a forging momentum no one dared to reckon with. Taking the axe from his back, he stormed through the opposite gate and broke off into a dead sprint to the outpost.

 

Clanking into the small garden that was once a shrine, his black armour moved at a breakneck pace to slam into the side of a clambering shade with the force of a freight train.

Laughing as it’s bones gave under his momentum, he dove into a dodging roll over the collapsing shade and sent his bearded blade through the ghostly body of a wraith.

Assessing his surroundings, he counted fourteen shades and more than twenty wraiths. As Cassandra came up behind him through the gates with Leliana at her side, Alex drew a wide bowie knife from a thigh sheath and sent it flying past the redhead’s shoulder into a wraith.

She widened her eyes, but he gave her a nod of his lupine helmet as he spun around to face three approaching Shades. Bianca sent one of her bolts into a shade’s chest at the orders of her oldest friend, as Cassandra split one from collarbone to groin and Alex cleaved one’s skull in half horizontally.

Leliana sent two arrows into two wraiths, spun, and smacked a shade with the arm of her bow. Solas froze the demon and Leliana spun past it while spinning her bow around to bludgeon the frozen form.

As the demon fell into shards of cold flesh with a sound of breaking glass, Alex put his bearded blade through a shade’s chest and the pommel of his ax bludgeoned deep into the head of a wraith.

Cassandra shunted her shield through a pair of frozen wraiths and they collapsed, while her sword’s cold and brutal edge cleaved the head from a greater shade.

Bianca’s stock bludgeoned a wraith into death with three blows as Solas froze enemies around Varric, the dwarf watching carefully through his peripheral. Drawing a pair of hidden blades from his belt, Varric sent two knives through a shade’s eye sockets and the demon fell dead.

Solas froze three shades in front of him and sent his body into a spin, the pommel blade of his staff slicing clean through the chilled flesh. The six halves fell to the ground and collapsed with an obnoxious sound on the ground, ending that particular threat.

Alex handled the remaining four shades as Leliana and Varric picked off the wraiths. Slicing through two and smashing his fist through another one’s thin skull and papery skin, Alex headbutted the final one’s forehead and caved it in. It crumbled into ash and fell into a pile.

Alex turned with a smile on his face to greet the others.

“Yeah! We di-...” Alex was cut off by a dull thunk, a crossbow bolt piercing his chest’s thick plate armour and ripping the air from his lungs.

Giving a breathy gasp and falling to a knee, Alex waved his hand and a dome of shimmering blue light burst into being around his form just in time for another bolt to bounce off of it.

Varric spun around and brought his love to bare, sending four bolts through her lithe form into the position where the quarrels flew from.

One embedded with a meaty sound into flesh and an agonized female scream echoed from the vantage point above them.

Cassandra snarled and vaulted over a low, demolished wall of stone and bounded up the fresh path through the powdery snows onto the small platform.

Looming over the writhing form with a growl in her throat and a sneer on her angular face, she ripped the young woman from the ground with a hand on the girl’s bicep, causing her to let loose a further shriek of agony.

Cassandra growled as she led the woman down the path. She looked up to see Alex’s wound being tended to by an efficient and coldly effective Solas.

Alex reached over and picked up a spare dagger from the ruined ground, placing it in one of the smoldering flames lit by the shades. Solas gave him a slight nod as he wrapped his hand around the shaft of the bolt.

“Now.” Alex commanded, and Solas obeyed. He gave it a swift yank and Alex released naught but a hiss, biting down on his own teeth to keep in the pain.

“Thanks.” Alex said. Breathing in and out a few times rapidly, he plucked the dagger from the flames and then moved to push the searing steel against his wound.

Cassandra knelt next to him rapidly and pulled open his mouth, slicing a piece of cloth from her undershirt’s sleeve and bundled it into his mouth.

He looked up into her eyes as she placed a hand on his wrist to steady his movements. Nodding silently, he moved with her and placed the wide blade’s tip into the broadhead’s gift.

Alex gave a low, thundering growl in reaction to the pain. A sound that rumbled up from his gut and emerged out through the azure cloth in his maw.

Cassandra laid her right hand on his cheek and pushed away the tear that slid from his right eye onto his rough, bearded cheek with the calloused pad of her thumb.

Alex gave a few shaky, rumbling breaths in recovery; a thickness of spit in the back of his throat causing a low snarling sound to accompany the slow rise and fall of his broad chest.

She pulled the cloth from his mouth with a gentle movement, keeping an eye contact that on anyone other than the hard Seeker would be tender.

The proud warrior shakily stood, his legs moving like a baby foal on its first rise. By the low grumbling words falling from his lips; he was irritated by the weakness.

Firmly gripping the leather wrapping of his axe, he planted the buttcap of the formidable weapon into the ground and used a combination of the support of the ironbark haft and Cassandra’s help to stand.

Turning his head to her, he gave a soft smile.

“I suppose it’s strange to thank someone for helping to burn you, but, thanks.” Alex said. For the first time since meeting him, even though he had been unarmoured and surrounded in their first conversation, this was the only time she heard a soft vulnerability in his voice.

“You’re welcome.” Cassandra replied quietly, reminded greatly of the heavy chastising Antony had received from their uncle after damaging his wrist in a fall.

Anthony had then looked at her with the same silent gratitude for her solid and easy comforting as Alex looked at her now.

“Holy Andraste! Would you two get a room already?” Varric said in an exasperated tone, throwing his arms up into the air. As Cassandra leveled a glare at him, she could swear she heard a laughter-like rattle from Bianca in Varric’s hands.

Alex blushed, a flaming expanse of bright red skin blossoming into being behind his bushy ochre beard.

“I would remind you how much shorter your legs are than mine, Varric.” Alex growled, a teasing note in the back of his words.

Varric smirked and only gave a caress to the side of Bianca’s aloft form as a response.

“The civilians are still within their evacuation protocols. We should inform them the danger has passed.” Solas called from his place atop a crumbled stone, scanning their surroundings.

His voice - despite the levity among his fellows - was even.

Though not as cold as it had once been.

“Aye. You and Varric take the north corner shelter. Cassandra and I shall go to the south and rescue those who fled to the caves.” Alex responded. The two nodded and marched off to do as he bid, their guards up.

Wrenching the bowie knife he had thrown earlier from a pile of sticky ectoplasm, he wiped it with a scrap rag and returned it to his thigh sheath as he walked.

“My thanks once more for the assistance, Cassandra.” Alex said softly. As Cassandra thought up the precise wording of her response, he turned around on the slippery path to assist her down a slick stone.

“It was of no consequence, Alex. A comfort between those who know the pain felt by another.” Cassandra replied, a deeply buried part of her hoping it could grow past that.

And; as though he had read her thoughts, he spoke.

“Very well, though I hope it could be more.” Alex remarked, with an almost demure expression on his face. The visage he now presented was so far from his two-dimensional emotions of boisterous joy or righteous fury that she looked twice in shock at him.

“Truly? Me?” Cassandra asked in bewilderment.

“And what is so wrong with you? A ruggedly beautiful woman who bears her scars with dignity and pride, and even after all she has fought bitterly to gain, she is not arrogant of her accomplishments.” Throughout this, he did not notice the fiery blush igniting her face.

“A wit to match mine, a fierce devotion to her beliefs and not afraid to give even my massive frame a clout now again if I’m being stupid?” He scoffed derisively.

“What else could I ever want in a woman?” He asked rhetorically, wrenching open the stone door to the hidden cave once used by pilgrims for a waystation out of the cold winds.

“The threat has passed! Code Blue!” He called into the cavern, receiving grateful calls in response as two ex-Templars edged their way from within the den. Fourteen builders, two of them carrying a furry bear of a man with a shade claw broken off in his side, followed after and a fire mage silenced the flames as her elven form followed.

Alex moved swiftly toward the large wounded man and took him from the two others, setting him back onto the hard, but even, stone floor. A quick cut removed his tattered and bloodied jade green shirt and dexterous movements of Alex’s fingers had a healing potion down the man’s fuzzy neck and the claw removed delicately.

The tiny barbs that Cassandra knew from sad personal experience were on those claws were carefully dealt with as Alex went, slicing the miniscule hooks away with a penknife he kept in his boot. The claw became smooth as he worked, and each barb could not dig back into flesh that healed firmly with the potion in his system.

Throwing the claw away with a snarl of disgust on his face, Alex gave the man a fortifying drink from his personal skin that contained a concoction so strong it had made even Varric choke, but the man swallowed it with a smile of remembrance.

“From the Frostbit Clans?” He rumbled, pointing at Alex’s drinkskin. Alex broke into a large grin and stood, offering the man a hand up that was taken quickly.

“Aye. Any relation?” Alex queried, his mood lightened. The man gave a smile and nodded, but when he spoke, it was not in any of the fourteen languages she had extensively drilled into her head by her red-maned friend.

“ _Skaala. Fu isi naas._ ” The man said.

“ _Mu Cie Sa foury izt Skaala!_ ” Alex replied in the same dialect with a surprised delight in his tone, their meaning lost on her. The man’s eyes grew into saucers at those words and grinned brightly.

Then, they threw their arms wide.

“ _Muru!_ ” They exclaimed, embracing as though brothers since birth. Cassandra watched on with bewildered eyes, and those who knew the standoffish man they had worked with blinked in outright shock.

“Cassandra! This is a cousin of mine!” Alex boomed with a happy, beaming grin that her smirking with fondly repressed mirth in response to his childish antics.

“Oh? And his name?” The Nevarran Seeker queried politely. Alex turned to the man and spoke once more.

“ _Skaala retair ot Skadda retair?_ ” Alex said.

“ _Skadda. Mu izt Ackre._ ” He replied.

“This is Ackre Bit, of the Frostbit Clans in the Northern Frostbacks. I know his grandmother well, a mean old war hound of a woman with a bite to match!” Alex exclaimed, as though the meaning of his own words should be obvious. Though, Cassandra supposed; to him they made perfect sense.

Ackre gave a booming laugh in response to his quasi-praise, and clapped his cousin on the back before returning to the cave.

He came out a few minutes later, clad head to toe in armour nearly identical to Alex’s, though his was of triple layered boiled hide instead of steel plate.

A bear cloak draped from his shoulders to his heels, of jet black shaggy fur. The claws interlinked around his neck as a brooch, though the pads of what were once the bear’s forepaws rested over his shoulder calmly.

He pulled up the hood on his helmet over his steel helmet, revealing it to be a full bear’s head with keen eyes and gleaming white teeth.

“You look good, _Muru!_ A proper _Krizthicker_ if I have ever laid eyes on one!” Alex boomed, clapping the great, well… _bear_ of a man on the back and throwing his head back in laughter.

Ackre chuckled and nodded in agreeance, before he spoke once more.

“ _Mu corra tui scalli. Mu ryi zeis._ ” Acker spoke. Alex gave a nod.

“ _Mu vis Mir corti, Muru._ ” Alex replied, and the two clasped forearms. Acker lumbered off, his armour making surprisingly little noise over the crunching snow.

“What was all that?” Cassandra questioned gently, hiding her shock.

“I was raised in various places, my father moved around much. I spent three of my formative years with the Frostbit Clan of the Avaar, even having the odd relationship with the young women. I learnt their language after I was officially welcomed into the clan, gifted a spot for healing one of the chieftains.” Alex replied, smiling.

“The odd relationship, eh?” Varric teased.

“Oh, indeed. Breyla kept clouting me upside the head until I figured out how to treat a girl right, I owe her everything.” Alex agreed.

“Any particular reason you had to leave?” Solas queried, sounding genuinely interested.

“I… I wasted valuable healing materials on myself to induce an artificial rage to directly challenge a cave bear for her hand. I won, but I didn’t ask to use them and outsiders can’t marry the daughter of a chief anyway. I was hoping her father would overlook that rule, but I was young and dumb.” Alex replied sheepishly.

“And in love.” Varric remarked.

“I said ‘dumb’ didn’t I?” Alex asked with a smile, turning to Cassandra, who smiled softly and nodded. Alex beamed around at his three friends.

 

As the group of four approached the temple, they stared about in no small amount of horror at the burning wreckage and scattered debris.

Bianca and Solas’ staff had dispatched the small shade resistance, bringing an adorable pout to Alex’s scarred face behind his helm.

The rift above them crackled ferociously, the breach glowing with an eldritch light.

An earth shattering boom shook the world around them, deafening and dazing. Staggering to lean on each other, only Alex was unaffected by the tilting ground.

The rift crackled and sundered, spitting free a horrific abomination as tall as three men and dumber than half of one. It was massive, gargantuan, and physically overbearing to a point none before it had ever known.

As the last shade fell to Bianca, Varric called out.

“This is really bad!”

“Out of the frying pan…” Began Cullen, voice wavering in, admittedly justified fear, whilst holding aloft his blade.

“And into the fire!” Interrupted Alex, letting loose a raucous whoop and jumping to scramble up the demon. Cassandra let loose a scream of concern, charging into the fray as Leliana’s archers began raining hell, peppering the beast with arrows, most of which merely bounced off.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU MAD BASTARD?!” Varric screamed as he pushed Bianca for all she was worth, clanking and whooshing ferociously as she fought to save her master’s friend.

“Having FUN!” Alex called in return, laughing as he harassed the demon, his legs locked around its neck and clinging on for dear life as he spun his ax.

Gathering enough momentum, he slid his hand up the ax in motion, shortening its swing length, and let its’ own speed carry it to mutilate the Pride Demon’s face. The demon screamed and squalled in pain, reaching up to clutch at its ruined face and its rider.

Alex unlocked his thighs and let the beasts recoiling momentum send him flying to the opposite ledge, landing with a spry bounce.

Unfortunately, while crippling it hard enough for Solas to freeze solid one of its legs, all Alex’s axe blade had done was cut up its nose and had avoided the eyes.

“Archers! The skin is soft at the neck!” Alex bellowed as he heaved his bulk into the fray, holding aloft his axe head like a shield to block a blast of Terror magic, shoving and saving Cullen in the process. He leapt past, swinging low an arm to catch Cullen’s cloak and sending him flying, a human missile, into a battery of archers.

They stumbled to catch their commander, falling back enough for the Pride Demon’s eye blast to soar clean over them and draw their attention to the shades behind them. As they drew blades and squared off behind their commander, they felt hope burn alight in their breasts as Alex’s insane exclamations came in still clear as day.

“DEATH! DEATH!” Bellowed Alex, primal and beastly as he hewed with everything his arms and hips could give into the Demon’s trunk like legs.

And with three more of these screams, the blade bit through the bone, cleaving through the remaining flesh and sending the beast _crashing_ down with a squall of rage.

Alex scrambled up it’s prone back as it thrashed and planted himself on its flailing shoulder blades, putting everything in him into one final downward arc.

Glowing under the force of his own power, his arms alight in holy golden fire and his shoulders wreathed within blinding red light, he screamed an earth _shattering_ scream and with the force of his blow, the ground raced to meet his ax and the demon’s skull was caught in between.

With a sickening squelch and an air-rending _SNAP_ , the bone splintered under the blade and the demon fell limp, never to rise and never to move again.

Teetering, Alex fell forward off the beast and collapsed. As his head bounced off the inner brow of his own helm with the force of the impact, he fell into blissful blackness.

**Author's Note:**

> Alex and Cassandra are really testing out a romance, not committing anything serious. By reminding her of Anthony, Alex has brought out a more easy going of Cassandra usually not discovered until far into her romance quests.  
> He does not have any idea what he is really getting himself into, but he has reliably informed me he does not regret it.  
> Mad Bastard that he is.


End file.
